Not Our Anniversary
by hermionesmydawg
Summary: Just because it's been one year from an event, doesn't mean you should classify it as an anniversary. It can still be special, though. Written for the WikiDeeks site one year celebration.


**Written for the WikiDeeks one year anniversary celebration. :)**

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><p>It was either the most brilliant or the absolute stupidest idea he'd ever had in his life.<p>

As Deeks stood outside of Kensi's apartment, he nervously wrung his hands over the nondescript paper sack clenched in his fists. A quiet tension had existed between him and his partner all day, starting from the moment they woke up in a tangled pile of limbs on her couch and she asked him if he remembered what day it was. Wednesday was apparently the wrong answer. At least he didn't respond with hump day; that probably would have resulted in a knee in his ribs instead of the icy glare he received.

Narrowly avoiding a stray bullet at work somehow ended up being the least stressful part of his day. Her cold shoulder treatment endured throughout until he dropped her off at her apartment and volunteered to go pick up dinner for the both of them. He just needed to get away for a few minutes, that then turned into a few hours, to process his thoughts. Holy hell, she was going to be pissed when he walked through her door.

Of course he knew what day it was. He may be a complete idiot when it came to Kensi most of the time, but he wasn't stupid. And really, in the grand scheme of things, remembering this date wasn't even that important - but it should have been.

He had run multiple scenarios through his head, figured out all of the logistics, and even made a pros and cons list on his phone. But thinking with his head, instead of his heart, was part of the reason why she was so royally pissed at him in the first place. And if Kensi Blye could manage to force herself to throw logic out the window, he damn well should be able to do the same.

Bracing for verbal impact, Deeks entered the apartment and was immediately greeted by his faithful mutt. The faithful partner was a little slower to acknowledge his entrance. "Hey bud," he said, rubbing Monty's fluffy head. For a second he thought of playfully rubbing Kensi's head as well, but she was already shooting daggers from her eyes at him. He was pretty sure she had actual daggers hidden away somewhere, and there was no need for him to tempt her to pull them out. "Hi," he spoke softly, looking at her apologetically.

With a grunt, Kensi stood up from the couch and walked to her kitchen. She opened a cabinet, pulled two plates down, and slammed the door shut. The sharp sound made both Deeks and Monty wince. "What's in the bag?" She cocked her jaw and pointed to his hands. "Chicken shit?"

"That's-" he chuckled and ran a hand across his jaw. "Okay, touché." Meeting her eyes, he shrugged his shoulders. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?"

"Yes."

"I don't think you even know what you're apologizing for."

"I-" he sighed. "I know what today is. Trust me, of all the days in my life that I've managed to forget, this isn't one of them."

Kensi pursed her lips and leaned on the counter. "It's not about what today is, Deeks. It's about what it _isn't_."

One year earlier, both of their lives changed, and not for the better. The course of events that played out after that night, well- they sucked. It certainly wasn't what he imagined or ever hoped would happen. The paper sack rustled again as he clenched his fists tighter. "I know."

"Then do something! Say something!" Before he even had a chance to open his mouth, she threw her hands up in the air and started pacing and ranting. "I mean, I don't even know what the hell is going on. We're opening up and talking about the stuff we never talked about before, you and Monty are practically living here, my place is actually clean-"

"Somebody had to do it," he interrupted, unable to stop himself. She ignored his comment and continued rambling.

"And you're throwing out all of these mixed signals. You said you don't know what to do with our thing, you gave my knife back, and obviously we're not together. But then you go and talk about stuff like being shipmates and thinking up kids names?! What the hell? And every time I think we're finally, I don't know, starting to communicate, you do something so infuriating that I just-"

He caught her flailing hand in mid-air, taking her by surprise. She was shaking, maybe from anger or sadness or frustration or some other set of feelings that Deeks had yet to understand from her. "It's not enough anymore, whatever this thing is," she said, glancing between his hand on hers and his intense gaze. "At first it was okay, because it was what we both needed at the time. But I need more than this. I want more than this."

Heart, not head, he told himself. Even after hours of trying to figure out the perfect words to say, nothing that made sense was coming to his mind. Kensi was the only person that could leave him utterly speechless. Clearing his throat, he wordlessly pressed his bag into her hand and released his grip on her. He was starting to think this idea was far more stupid than brilliant.

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously and unrolled the bag, peaking inside. Her expression moved quickly from suspicious to confused to indignant. "Is this supposed to be a joke?"

Deeks took it as a good sign that she didn't resume her yelling rampage. "Not so much a joke as an icebreaker, really."

Pulling out a small plastic wrapper, she sniffed it and threw it back in the bag. "Tacos? Really?"

It was now or never. "I um, I have spent the last 364 days blaming myself for everything that has gone wrong for you, for us. And that will probably never change. But it's not fair for me to tell you to make peace with things without doing the same myself." Exhaling slowly, he licked his lips and placed his hand along the curve of her hip. "You're right, this is not enough. So yes, tacos. And if it's okay with you, I have no intention of eating them this time either."

Her eyes flashed and a hint of pink covered her cheeks as she snorted in shock. "You, wow," she said, laughing. "You are literally incapable of doing anything like a normal-"

This time when he interrupted her, she didn't have the option of ignoring him. His firm hand on her hip contrasted the soft press of his lips against hers, melting the last bit of icy frustration she was struggling to hold on to after being so upset with him earlier. The kiss wasn't urgent or desperate or even sweet, it was just...what they needed.

"Person," she mumbled breathlessly as he pulled away.

Deeks brushed a strand of hair off of her shoulder, smiling crookedly. "Happy not-our-anniversary."

"Happy not-our-anniversary," she echoed, dropping the bag of tacos to the floor with a thud. "Maybe next year?"

Nodding, he leaned down to kiss her again. "Definitely next year."


End file.
